


Together we’ll be alright

by Temaki



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, Other, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:13:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25345234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temaki/pseuds/Temaki
Summary: MC finds out they’re pregnant. Mammon doesn’t react too well to it at first.
Relationships: Main Character/Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!), Mammon (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 111





	Together we’ll be alright

_

There are two lines. Two fucking angry red lines, staring right back at your soul. You check the box again, unwilling to believe in your faith, but there’s no doubt. Two lines, the box says. There are two of them on your hand. Your hands are shaking but they’ve been like that for the past hour or so, so it doesn’t fade you in the slightest. You sit the little stick on the counter, next to the first one, and grab the only remaining box in the bag. 

You’re sitting on the lid of the toilet, flimsy pajamas on, while Mammon sleeps soundly in the room. Mammon. What’s he going to think when you tell him? What are you gonna do? You open the last box as slowly as you can, not wanting to rush the last minutes of your sanity, but something in your guts tells you there’s no need to cling to any hopes. You know it already. You can feel it inside of you. The last stick isn’t like the others - you decided to buy a different one just in case, but the procedure is the same. You pull it out, read the instructions. It’s one of those cross ones. 

Never on your life did you want to see a minus as badly as you do in this moment. You place it on the counter, on top of the box, and stand up, walking to the tap. You wash your hands quickly, just to busy yourself as much as possible, and wipe them on your pants before walking out of the small bathroom. 

The door of the room is ajar, you’ve left it like that so it wouldn’t range whenever you needed to open it. It’s a fairly easy way: All you need to do is tiptoe to the kitchen, grab a glass of water and drink it. Then you play the waiting game. You take a deep breath, your cold feet hitting the carpet as swiftly as you can manage, but stop when Mammon shifts on the bed. He’s still asleep, god knows he wouldn’t wake up even if the place was on fire, but you still wait for his breath to even out before finally escaping the room into the dimly lit hallway that leads to the kitchen. You open the door, drink a whole bottle of water as fast as you can, and starts to walk back. 

You stop by the door, watching Mammon. He always sleeps with one hand under his head. I wonder if the baby will sleep like that too. Your hand goes to your stomach instinctively, and you take a moment to realize what you’re doing before shaking your head in shock. You don’t know it for sure yet. You shut the door slowly, watching out for any noise, and tiptoe back into the bathroom, breathing out heavily when you close the door, eyes screwed shut. The stick is still there when you open them again. It wasn’t a bad dream after all. You walk to the counter and hold it.

“Please be a minus.” You whisper to it, holding it strongly in your closed fist against your chest. 

It takes another five minutes, but you finally go. You pace back and forth around the small tiled cubicle you and Mammon have shared and called a bathroom for six months now, never taking your eyes off the stick that now lays next to the others. It’s like waiting for a death sentence, except this one means life. A whole new life, that you’re not sure you want. At least not yet. You’re not ready for it, no sir. You bite your nails, cold feet slapping way too soundly on the tile for your liking. The alarm on your phone beeps. It’s been three minutes. You rush to the counter, not even bothering to turn it off,, just in time to see the shape appearing on the little screen. 

It’s a minus.

A blue minus stares at you from the counter, and it’s just enough to get a little amount of hope back into you. Maybe it’s not true. Maybe the other ones are wrong. You smile to yourself before disposing of the tests, hiding them and the boxes under an immense amount of toilet paper you rolled out from the roll. You stand up, wiping the dust off your knees, wash your hands and face, and go to bed. It takes you a couple hours to fall asleep and, when you do, the sleep is light and nightmare-filled, making you thrash around so much in the mattress Mammon had to embrace you for you to stop moving and finally relax. 

The next morning goes by in a haze: way too many things happening all at once in your mind for you to really keep track of them, and between acting as normal as possible around Mammon, and meeting your friend for lunch, everything seemed a little more afloat than normal. After lunch, your friend took you for a blood test, so you could know for sure. You skipped class, then, going to her house for a little girl’s day, just to keep yourself in check, and after that you returned home, going by with your life as if nothing was happening. 

The entire following week leading up to the results of your blood test coming in was like that. You went on with your day to day stuff, going to work in the morning and class in the night, trying your best to keep up with homework, and spending the weekend with Mammon because you hardly saw each other during the week (as much as it pained you, that had been a relief). 

You left class as soon as the teacher announced you were free to go, being the first out of the door and at the bus stop like you’d done every day that week. You didn’t want to arrive home after Mammon, scared that he might see the blood test before you. It hadn’t happened yet, but, as fate would have it when you push open the door to your shared apartment, you’re greeted by the sight of your boyfriend of two years looking incredulously to an envelope with your name in it. 

“Mammon.” 

His eyes are huge. “Y/N.,” he says in a dead tone, showing you the envelope, “What… what’s this?”

Your hands are shaking when you close the door, going to his encounter. He lets you take the envelope from his hands, watching your every move. “I… I don’t know, yet.”

“Y/N…” he looks at you as you sit down, dark eyes gazing up and down your figure unsurely in a mixture of worry and doubt. 

You take a deep breath, avoid his eyes, and open the envelope. The noise of ripping paper echoed through the walls of the apartment, like a silent judgment. You read it, once, twice, unable to hold the tears on your eyes. Mammon’s breath hitches on his throat, he read the paper from behind your shoulder. 

“When were you gonna tell me?” 

“Mammon, I…”, you aren’t sure of what to say, it’s not entirely your fault after all, but it feels like it.

“No, Y/N, what are gonna do? We’re not fit to take care of a baby! We aren’t fit to be parents!” He exclaims, taking the paper from your hands and reading it to himself again. His hair is the messiest you’ve ever seen, he ran his hands through it way too many times as he always does when things aren’t going as planned. His brothers says it’s a coping mechanism.

“We’ll find a way, I don’t know, we-”

“We can’t keep a houseplant alive, Y/N!” He cuts you off, words rushing out of his mouth without him thinking about them, you’re sure, but they still hurt. More tears prickle on your eyes as the implication of his words hit you, and he stops. They surely hit him too. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N, that’s not what I meant, I-”

“It’s okay.” You say, not minding the bite on your voice. 

You stand up fast, ignoring the sudden ache on your head and chest, and walk out before he can say anything. The next two days are spent in your friend’s house, alternating between crying, being angry at him and feeling numb. 

Your friend is out at night that Friday. It’s late, and you told her to go, you could take care of yourself. You’re halfway through your third take of The Notebook when a knock on the door startles you. Maybe it’s the upstairs neighbor again. She liked to come over sometimes to talk about life, and you surely wouldn’t mind the company. You swing the door open, not caring about your bed hair when you’re met with a face you hadn’t seen in days. 

“Y/N,” he says before you can think of anything, one hand holding the door even though you wouldn’t shut it on his face, “Can we talk? Please?”

You sigh, pushing the door further with your foot, and he smiles awkwardly, following you inside. You sit on the couch, arms crossed, watching him, and he stands by the carpet, right in front of you. 

“Go ahead then,” you say, voice hoarse from not using it in a while, but he seems to relax at the tone of it. 

He takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and opens them again, “I’m a dick.”

“Yeah, you are.”

He smiles. His hair is a mess, you notice, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it like that, it’s just… it caught me by surprise. I was scared and I didn’t think and I’m a complete asshole, I’m so sorry.” He says fast, tripping over his words, and you’d have laughed at his nervousness were this any other situation. 

“I’m scared too, Mammon. Fuck, I’m terrified. I have no idea how to be a mom, I don’t know what I’m gonna do!” Your arms are a little wild as you speak as if painting the picture of your insecurities, and he crouches down in front of you. 

“We’ll find a way. I promise.” He smiles, pulling out something from his back pocket, “If you’ll have me?” he takes your hand in his, placing something small in it. 

You open it, a smile forming on your lips when you see the baby green pacifier decorated with little yellow birds he’s placed on your hand.

“Mammon…” You say, tears running down your cheeks, and pull him in. His arms are strong around you, and at that moment you know you’re gonna make it. No matter what, you and Mammon were made for each other, and you’re sure your family will be all the better with your little addition to it. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is crossposted on tumblr!


End file.
